


Pussy All Night

by Suggilates



Category: Demon's Souls
Genre: Forced Orgasm, M/M, Stuck in a wall, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:14:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22199179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suggilates/pseuds/Suggilates
Summary: Ostrava seeks help from literally the worst person he could.
Relationships: Patches the Hyena/Ostrava of Boletaria, Patches the Hyena/Ostrava of Boletaria | Ariona Allant, Unbreakable Patches/Ostrava of Boletaria, Unbreakable Patches/Ostrava of Boletaria | Ariona Allant
Comments: 5
Kudos: 48





	Pussy All Night

**Author's Note:**

> how the fuck am I supposed to tag Ostrava haha  
> If DeS gets remastered and you're reading this in the future stan Patches  
> (Thank you to Hamfoot for all the edits!!)

Patches hadn’t been looking for a quick fuck, but wasn’t one to pass up an opportunity handed to him on such a gilded platter. He’d been minding his own business, keeping track of traps he’d set in the mines as he was headed back to the Nexus for the night. Other travelers were a rarity in the old caves, mostly coming face to face with the scaly remains of the workers, though he rarely saw them this deep in the caverns. With all his traps, Patches always kept an eye on his location, not wanting to spring one on himself. He was so deep in thought, he didn’t hear the panicked footfalls till the knight in Latrian armor collided with him at full force, nearly knocking Patches to the ground. Before he could even curse, the young man latched onto Patches shoulders, panic high in his voice as he shouted in his face.

“You there! You’ve got to help me! I’ve been lost in here for God knows how long, you’ve got to get me out of here!”

The balls on this guy.

Patches regarded the young man down his nose,  _ no one _ tells Patches what to do.

“No can do, mate, you’re on your own,” he scoffed as he slapped the young knight’s hands away. The poor thing grabbed him again, sinking his fingers into Patches’ tunic, and yanked Patches close, unintentionally yelling in his face.

“I’ll surely be killed!”

The knight’s entitled attitude was starting to get on his nerves, and Patches pulled boy off of him with a scowl. Such a miserable brat could starve to death in here for all he cared. He’d started away when the boy called out to him again.

“You can’t just let me die here!” Mortal panic seemed to be seeping into his voice, now. Cute.

“If it’s money you want, it’s no issue!”

Now  _ that _ .

That caught Patches’ ear. He spun on his heel, startling the knight who had been following too close behind him.

“Why didn’t you say so in the first place, luv?” Patches cooed, amicably clapping a hand on the knight’s shoulder. The young man took a second to process Patches’ complete 180, body visibly relaxing as the relief washed through him.

“Oh- thank you! I knew you would help. I assure you, whatever riches you desire shall be yours once we’re out of these dreaded caves!”

The brat didn’t realize Patches’ payday was going to much sooner than that. He was inclined to compare the boy’s blind trust to stealing candy from a baby, but at least babies held their candy in clenched fists. With a wave Patches led the boy deeper into the mines. Most of the caverns this far into the mountain were burrowed by great beasts, the lava spewing bear bugs. The hulking bastards were easy enough to avoid until you wanted to travel down the road they were blocking- and if you dispatched one, god help you with that spiteful explosion they caused. The tunnels doubled over themselves, disorientating to anyone who hadn’t spent an inordinate amount of time laying traps. Occasionally a new tunnel would appear, but the bear bugs didn’t care to stray far from the river of magma they called home.

The walk had continued in blessed silence. Patches had been leading the knight around in a circle, waiting for him to grow tired, when the boy spoke up.

“I’m afraid in my panic I never introduced myself.”

“Oh you don’t have t-“

“My name is Ostrava. Ostrava of Boletaria.”

Boletaria? In Latrian armor? He certainly didn’t sound Boletarian, though with his pompous attitude it wouldn’t be a stretch to imagine this boy as some blue blood. Patches gave the boy a short nod and kept walking.

“Aren’t you going to tell me your name? Surely I should know the name of my savior if I am to thank him.” The knight relaxed, Patches could even hear the smile in his voice. Oh the sweet naïveté of youth! It warmed the cockles of Patches’ heart to hear just how dumb this noble brat was. The boy had no idea what kind of company he was in.

“Everyone I know calls me Patches, but you can call me Patches.” Ostrava stuck out his hand to shake but Patches pretended he didn’t see and rounded a corner. There was a small opening somewhere in these mines, he’d seen it recently, but with all the commotion he couldn’t quite remember. It sat at about hip high, barely enough room to fit through, and it led to a room too small to do anything with. By the time he got his shoulders through, he had hit the back wall, bracing his arms in disappointment. The other side was just a tiny cavern, a hole in the wall that he had thrown some half eaten grass and gently used rags in. If it weren’t any good for traps, he could use it for a rubbish bin. But now, if he were lucky, this trash chute might get him laid.

Ostrava’s tense, tight posture began to slump the longer they walked. He must be getting tired, this was too easy! Though it wasn’t hard to get exhausted in the heat of the caverns, the poor boy was probably roasting in that heavy armor. Luckily for him, he’d be lightened of that  _ Latrian load _ soon enough.

Patches was blessed with good timing, and sure enough as he spied the little nook in the wall Ostrava had begun to complain. He whined to Patches, asking if they could take a break- his feet ached, it was hot, and that the area didn’t look familiar at all.

“It won’t be much longer, I actually know a little shortcut right over here!” Patches chuckled, revealing the little gap with a grand wave of his arm. He could just see the way Ostrava lit up, even in his heavy armor he reanimated, dashing to the hole and feeling out it’s entrance.

“It’s a bit of a tight fit, but I’m sure you’ll be just fine.” The boy leaned over to inspect the hole, ass wiggling cutely. Patches bent at the hip to catch a glimpse up Ostrava’s skirt. The knight really would be a tight fit. His Latrian armor betrayed how thin his waist was. It was a miracle the boy didn’t collapse under the weight of his armor, especially with his golden weapons. What a pretty penny those would fetch!

“It’s a little dark- are you certain I’ll make it through?” While hesitant, Ostrava’s blind focus on getting outside was palpable. He’d stuck his arm in before Patches had time to speak. The desperation was really kicking in, the heat must be miserable in that armor.

“Not to worry, luv! I’m sure you’ll fit through- I have, haven’t I?” Patches said, definitely not having been through that hole. Ostrava looked over his shoulder at Patches, his eye barely visible through his helm, but he could see it crinkle with an exhausted, but wide smile.

“Thank you very much, Patches. I’ll be eternally grateful for this.” His utterly genuine gratitude made Patches’ dick throb. Oh, he was going to crush this little blue-blooded brat’s heart. Ostrava ducked, and with a little scraping, his helmet fit through the hole. With his taller pauldron inside the hole it was easy to fit his other arm inside, but as soon as he did he brushed the wall opposite him. The lip on the edge of his breastplate caught on the ridge of the hole, impeding his way inside.

“Patches? Are you sure this is the right one? It’s a little small, and there’s no way out-  _ OH! _ ” 

With a firm boot to the ass, Patches popped Ostrava inside the hole. The lip of his breastplate that had kept him safely outside now doomed him, the gap between the breastplate and the fauld locking him in place halfway inside.

“What is going on? Have you gone mad? Let me out!” Ostrava wailed, banging his hands on the wall that held him.

“It might be hard to hear in there, darling, but don’t be so heartbroken! I’ll be letting you out, alright- out of your armor!” Patches cackled, watching Ostrava’s legs kick out wildly.

“What did you say? Let me out of here!”

“I  _ said \-  _ fuck it.” Patches bent to whip the knife from his boot and narrowly dodged a kick from Ostrava. Hopefully he’d keep this energy up. He wasn’t one to complain about an easy lay, but his usual partners were always so unenthusiastic- on account of them being unconscious, of course. It would be nice to sink inside someone with a little more squeeze than a drugged up traveler could provide.

Ostrava was shouting something unintelligible, not only muffled by the rocks but also completely incoherent with sheer panic. His unusually loud voice was still loud, but trapped in the hole as he was he would only succeed in deafening himself with the echo of his own voice. With an even stare Patches watched the way Ostrava flailed, how he kicked his legs out wildly then had to stop to breathe thru his terror. It was like he was asking for this! His knees were knocked together, splaying his legs out cutely. It would be a crime  _ not  _ to give the boy a try.

Ostrava jumped when Patches was suddenly close enough to touch, especially because Patches grabbed a handful of ass. While not an impressive feat, there was plenty of give for such a small knight, plush and inviting. Nothing like the wastrels Patches usually concerned himself with. He kneaded the cheek in his palm roughly, keeping a hand busy while observing how Ostra tried to kick him away. He wasn’t very strong, so as long as he didn’t escape, this was going to be a walk in the park. The boy stiffened when Patches cupped him through his trousers, he handled Ostrava’s vulva gently, kneading him. The boy was so soft and warm, fitting cutely in Patches’ palm. Patches teased along Ostrava’s lips through his trousers, feeling out his sex with delight. Ostrava began to kick wildly, dislodging Patches’ hand as he screamed from the other side.

“ _ Unhand me at once! You’ll pay for this, you brute! ”  _ Ostrava wailed. Patches pressed the edge of his blade between Ostrava’s clothed cunt, not enough to hurt, but enough to threaten. The young man locked up quick, thighs quivering with fear. 

Oh, Patches was gonna make much more than Ostrava’s thighs quiver. He just wanted to feel out what he was working with, first. Patches teased his knife down the inseam of Ostrava’s leggings, keeping the point of his blade aimed at the artery. With his threat in place, the boy only flinched when Patches brought his hand down to grope his ass again. He had no intention of killing the boy, at least not himself, but it was a good way to keep him in check. Boletarians were usually such a gruff and grizzled type, massive warriors from the north, used to fighting and winning. The young man in his hand was so lithe and perky, he really must have been in a noble family if he wasn’t already built like a literal bear. While a skinny ass wasn’t Patches’ preference, he knew Ostrava likely wouldn’t be able to free himself and beat him to death. Patches the Good Luck  _ indeed _ ! Nice give, a little bony, but an ass Patches could see himself in. He gave Ostrava a firm crack across the cheeks and watched the young man jump, terrified. 

“You know what they say about eating a peach don’t you, luv?” Ostrava couldn’t understand him, shaking with what appeared to be body wracking sobs. Like skinning a rabbit, Patches slipped his blade between Ostrava’s leggings and the meat of his thigh and cut a clean line up to Ostrava’s groin. And just like that Ostrava’s kicking picked up again, torn between lashing out and trying to cover himself up. Patches could almost make out words in Ostrava’s blubbering through the cave wall, but he’d spent so long ignoring Ostrava, why would he stop now. He pressed the tip of his knife to Ostrava’s other thigh, his warning to stop kicking if he didn’t want to get nicked. Just like the well-trained noble he was, Ostrava went still, as still as he could with how hard he was crying. 

Patches was carving himself a nice little back door into Ostrava’s leggings, nearly salivating when the cloth fell loose around his crotch, revealing the blue-blood’s pink cut. Short cropped whorls demurely hid his virginal, unused pussy. Even Ostrava’s cunt was high end. Patches got a thrill palming him with his work worn gloves. This luxury pussy was about to meet some discount dick. The thought of sullying some purebred brat with his lowly touch truly made Patches feel whole. Well past panicked, Ostrava thrashed as best he could, trying to yank his hips either way out of the hole. Just desperate to escape Patches’ touch, but the only thing he accomplished was rubbing himself all over Patches’ palm, which still cupped him closely. 

Patches threw his knife to the ground to free up his other hand, leaning into Ostrava and spreading his lips with his thumbs. Dewy pink, the picture of a virginal noble, it got Patches so hot he was almost afraid he’d boil alive. Ostrava wept on the other side, he could see the way he tried to press his thighs together, but fear was starting to make him delirious. Patches held the young man open with one hand, tracing between his folds with the other. For someone unused, he certainly took his time grooming himself. Patches bent for a better view. Ostrava wasn’t quite wet enough just yet, but that was an easy fix. He spat directly on Ostrava’s cut and he could almost hear the fresh peal of sobs from the other end of the wall. 

Patches unceremoniously thrust a finger inside and Ostrava clenched around him with a scream. Deliciously tight, even around only his index finger, Patches couldn’t believe his luck. Curling his finger, Patches thrust inside the young knight, savoring how unbelievably hot he was. He gripped him so tightly one could easily believe Ostrava was actively participating. More and more often, Patches’ partners weren’t awake or even sometimes alive to enjoy the festivities, Ostrava’s quivering cunny would be a welcome change of pace. With a small noise Patches slipped a second finger inside, scissoring the boy open. Such a lewd gesture left Ostrava shaking. 

Ostrava kicked to life, trying anew to escape, but visibly more exhausted. Patches could see the way his legs shook under the stress of keeping him upright. It was cute to see how Ostrava still fought this losing battle. Patches fingered him open, two fingers spreading till he could fit a third. Ostrava clenched around Patches’ fingers, body betraying how good it felt. The obscenely loud wet noises of Ostrava’s pussy were only amplified with the how wet he was getting, to the point his slick was dripping down Patches’ glove in rivulets. Patches sped up, stirring him up so bad Ostrava’s hips began to match pace with him. For someone crying so much, Ostrava sure seemed to like it.

With the way Ostrava begged him through his tears to stop- clearly the boy wasn’t going to last if he didn’t move on. The sensation of Patches’ worn gloves spearing him open was probably too much for the little noble, so used to shy little touches- so virginal he’d probably never had more than a finger plunged this deep before. He probably wouldn’t mind cumming a few times, it would do him some good.

Patches crooked his fingers cruelly, raking his fingers against Ostrava’s soft insides. The boy must have been too keyed up to scream for help because only a whorish moan slipped through the cracks, high and breathy. Patches doubled his pace, watching the tendons in Ostrava’s legs jump and tremble. Three fingers deep and moving this roughly- Patches could  _ see _ the orgasm building, hear the frantic slapping of Ostrava’s palms on the stone wall. This was the best. The poor knight probably didn’t want this to be his first time, but boy would he have stories to tell. Stories about how a suave, well hung treasure hunter ravaged him so completely he couldn’t even cum by his own hand anymore! It was nothing compared to the way Patches pounded his tight little pussy!

As if on cue, Ostrava clenched around Patches’ fingers with a scream, hips trembling as he was forced through his first orgasm. Ostrava slammed his fist on the wall, trying to keep his hips still, trying not to feel the way his veins were set alight, a thousand times more overwhelmed than any lackluster pillow humping experience he’d had. Patches didn’t stop of course, he ought to work him through it, with all that walking and complaining, he needed a break.

The cave was silent for only a moment before the boy started to pound his fists on the other side of the wall, resilient for some virgin who’d just been fingerbanged. He might be resilient but he was tired too, the way his thighs shook with the effort of staying upright. Patches cupped his ass lovingly, spreading him open to get a view of his soaked cunt. 

Ostrava was definitely wet enough now. Patches was ready to move this along, he pulled himself free from his britches, smearing Ostrava’s juices over his cock. With his free hand Patches pulled Ostrava open, teasing his dick at Ostrava’s hole, sliding himself against the young knight. The boy shrieked, thrashing away from Patches as best he could, but Patches held him firmly. Patches slid himself between Ostrava’s lips, not looking to plunge in just yet, but to give the boy a preview of what was to come. He teased his cockhead at Ostrava’s slit, rubbing it obscenely between the folds and watching the way Ostrava’s slick made it glisten. Ostrava jumped out of Patches’ grasp, hips jolting in fear. Patches clamped a hand down on Ostrava’s hip and pressed against him again, messily slipping his dick over Ostrava’s clit. Ostrava’s legs tried to clamp shut but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Patches could hear Ostrava’s moans, even if he tried to bite them back, the poor thing was only a virgin after all. 

“What’s wrong, luv? You don’t wanna tell old Patches how much you love this dirty cock? Not to worry, you’ll get a proper feel for it soon enough.”

Patches dragged himself to Ostrava’s opening and pressed ever so lightly, teasing himself with a little kiss to Ostrava’s sex. With his spare hand Patches held Ostrava open, and experimentally pushed. As if on cue, Ostrava wailed.

“ _ Please, Patches! Stop- please! I’m begging you! Don’t do this-! I-I’m a prince! The crown prince Ariona Allant of Boletaria! You’ll be hanged for this!” _

Patches threw his head back with a crowing laugh.

“Ha! And Saint Urbain’s my uncle! Did your  _ dear old daddy _ tell you to say that if you ever got in trouble? Too bad for you! I’ve more of a mind to fuck you twice as hard, if that were true.”

Patches stretched the boy even more open and sank his cock into that  _princely_ pussy. Ostrava shrieked behind the wall, clenching around Patches, already so tight, and he wasn’t even halfway in. The poor boy was stretched enough to work him inside but still blissfully tight, almost akin to a velvet vice grip. It was heaven and heat, lighting his heart on fire with the way the boy shook. Ostrava was trying to dislodge him, but only succeeded in grinding on Patches’ dick.

“Careful, luv, move like that and I won’t be able to keep my head.” Patches hissed, eyes rolling with how deliciously Ostrava shook his hips. Patches sank himself in to the hilt, grinding against the so-called prince. Ostrava wailed, his begging falling on deaf ears, background noise against the cacophony from the cave. The boy was such a tight fit, even having been prepped by Patches’ expert hand, it was a wonder he fit at all. Ostrava tried to clench around Patches to dispel him, hoping he could put off his assailant with an uncomfortable fit. With a hiss of breath Patches pulled back, thrusting shallowly. The soft, wet sounds of Ostrava’s pussy being stirred up by Patches’ cock were muffled by the ambient roar of the caves and Ostrava’s own sobbing. The boy said he was a prince, but he acted more like a little brat, especially with the way he cried- cried and cried. Wouldn’t cease for even a moment! Though it was hard to deny such an active participant was refreshing. Patches had spent so long taking advantage of people the hard way, be it by blade or by sleep, so many of his partners were indisposed. The wet heat of Ostrava’s cunt gripped Patches so tightly it almost hurt, but the boy was slick enough he could feel the way his juices dripped down to his balls.

Patches dug his thumbs into Ostrava’s hips, yanking the boy in time with his thrusts, freeing a hand up only to crack Ostrava across his ass. With an orgasm already ripped from his body, Ostrava found himself entirely overwhelmed, the intrusion of Patches’ fingers had felt like he had been torn open, and now his cock being crammed inside- like the blade that pierced him had grown tenfold. His sex may have been stretched, but much like a wineskin filled with too much drink, ripping at the seams. Amidst the pain Ostrava was still set alight, hips twitching in Patches’ grip, and moans slipping between his sobs. His first time was to be promised to his future suitor, not to some common pickpocket, it was to be romantic and gentle- but just thinking about what was to be made Ostrava’s heart clench bitterly. Patches held him cruelly, fucking into the boy with wild abandon.

“How will your future betrothed feel to learn you were sullied by the cock of another man? Your maidenhead handed over to a graverobber!”

Ostrava wept bitterly. Patches could weep with joy. Not only would he be getting off, but he’d be rich for it too! The brat was laden with trinkets and goodies, even just a button off his shirt would net him a pretty penny. He’ll be a king! The visions of gold were blinding, a shining future for old Patches. He would live in the lap of luxury, never an empty stomach or an empty bed. Patches leaned into Ostrava, rutting into him like a dog. His brain was fogging up, hips losing rhythm with his daydreams distracting him from keeping pace. Ostrava clenched around Patches, agonizingly teetering towards his second orgasm. The sweet sound of Ostrava’s mounting, screaming moans and the brilliance of Patches’ dream meeting in unholy union- mirroring the way Patches ground their bodies together till the seams bled into one another. 

Patches came inside Ostrava with a soft huff, grinning to himself as he held the boy still to receive him. Ostrava went quiet, body trembling before going limp. Not unconscious, but merely heartbroken, devastated to the point he could no longer hold himself upright. Patches pulled himself free slowly, patting Ostrava’s ass like one would a mare’s. He had half a mind to slip a coin in Ostrava’s cunny as thanks for the ride, but decided against it, instead looking to line his pockets. After tucking himself away, Patches busied himself digging through Ostrava’s bum bag. For a so-called noble he was pretty scarcely outfitted, some grass and coin, but enough for Patches to live handsomely for a few weeks. The boy seemed unresponsive, only stirring when Patches gave his pummeled cunt a playful flick. 

“Thanks for the good time, my dear! Rest assured your  _princely_ possessions will be put to good use. Do watch out for those bearbugs, eh?” Patches cackled. With one last slap on the ass Patches turned on his heel. Purse a little heavier and balls a little lighter, Patches found himself leaving the caves with a skip in his step.


End file.
